(no subject)
Apple Pie #25. Moving
Story : knights & necromancers
Rating : G
Timeframe : 1269
Word Count : 827
“Hello?” The door barely opened, fighting for every inch against the luggage piled in its path. Lyssa edged inside and shoved it closed behind her.
Ski’s head bobbed up amidst the clutter in the kitchen with her usually neatly pinned hair spun about her in a wild, blonde halo. “Lyssa.” It came out a bark. “Your timing, for once, is impeccable.”
“What’s going on here?” said Lyssa, settling back against the doorframe, arms folded across her chest, to survey the sea of bags and boxes her sister’s home had become.
“I am packing,” came the response from the kitchen, where now the only trace of Ski was the occasional glimpse of blue between boxes and the rattle of various drawers being relieved of their contents. “Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Lyssa repeated, dryly.
Ski snapped upright to stare at her. “Has word not reached you?”
“Word of what?” Ski was frozen to the spot, simply blinking at her as if she could not put words to her disbelief. “Look,” said Lyssa, peeling herself from the wall. “I’ve been on a caravan route the last month, traipsing across the middle of roc infested nowhere with Mel and this nasty little rug salesman from Olenburl, and then I stopped to check on Kairn and Sham in their hole in the wall. You can’t expect me to know what’s going on in your little world too.”
“Mother has taken ill.” Her voice was soft, but the words were as heavy as if she’d shouted them.
“Ill… wait, you’re packing every-” Lyssa stopped, a lump in her throat. “How ill?”
“She collapsed. The medics say her heart…”
Lyssa wondered how she’d missed the dark rings under her sister’s eyes. “Is she…?”
“She will live.” She was trying to force some of the usual business-like tone back into her voice, and Lyssa turned to studying the bags amassed in the parlor to take her eyes off of her. “But she is growing old, Lyssa. She cannot manage everything on her own anymore.”
Lyssa sniffed. As if she was the one that needed convincing. “Finally decided to go back to being the dutiful daughter you always used to.”
“You were right. I cannot sit here forever with my head in the dust. There are demons tearing up the north, and now Mother…My place is at court.”
“So, what can I do?”
Any suggestions Ski might have had were lost to the sudden clamor of small feet on the stairs.
“Mother!” cried Mara, all but tumbling down the last few steps into the parlor, with the calico cat weaving its way down behind her.
“Mara, baby.” Lyssa softened at the sight of her and leaned into the room with her arms opened, waiting for her to race into them.
At the base of the stairs, the girl stiffened, adopting as serious a look as an eight- year-old could muster. “I am not a baby, Mother.” She held her ground for a moment, while excitement battled with dignity, before giving in and bounding across the obstacle course of a parlor.
“Mother,” she said, as Lyssa threw an arm around her. “Mother, Aunt Kari says we are going to go stay at the palace. The palace. Where the princes and princesses live. And I will go to school to be a knight. Does that not sound just splendid?” She uncurled herself from the vise she’d made of her arms around Lyssa’s middle to peer up at her eagerly.
Lyssa gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I’ve been to the palace before, honey.”
“Mara,” Ski called from the kitchen, “have you packed your clothes yet?”
Mara’s expression soured. “Some,” she said. “But if we’re really going to live at the palace, aren’t I to be wearing something nicer?”
“Pack them anyway. The coach will be here soon and we will not be coming back.”
“Very well.” Mara sighed, removing herself the rest of the way from Lyssa to hurry back up the stairs with the cat still at her heels.
There was a loud huff from the kitchen, and the rattle of silver being sorted into boxes resumed. “She thinks she is a princess already,” said Ski. “What am I to do with that child?”
“You want me to come with you? Is Father already there?”
Ski sighed again. “You know Father. He swears he has too many things to wrap up at home before he can leave.”
Lyssa frowned at the stairs. Mara had disappeared into her room, but she could still hear her chattering away at the cat. “Maybe I should go help him then.”
“Anything to avoid setting foot in the palace, is it?”
Lyssa shrugged. “Know where I’m not wanted.”
“Well, then,” said Ski. “Give my best to Father. I expect I will be seeing neither of you for some time.”
“S’pose so. I’ll see you off, though. Anything I can help with here?”
“Go get your daughter to stop playing princess long enough to pack.”
Story : knights & necromancers
Rating : G
Timeframe : 1269
Word Count : 827
“Hello?” The door barely opened, fighting for every inch against the luggage piled in its path. Lyssa edged inside and shoved it closed behind her.
Ski’s head bobbed up amidst the clutter in the kitchen with her usually neatly pinned hair spun about her in a wild, blonde halo. “Lyssa.” It came out a bark. “Your timing, for once, is impeccable.”
“What’s going on here?” said Lyssa, settling back against the doorframe, arms folded across her chest, to survey the sea of bags and boxes her sister’s home had become.
“I am packing,” came the response from the kitchen, where now the only trace of Ski was the occasional glimpse of blue between boxes and the rattle of various drawers being relieved of their contents. “Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Lyssa repeated, dryly.
Ski snapped upright to stare at her. “Has word not reached you?”
“Word of what?” Ski was frozen to the spot, simply blinking at her as if she could not put words to her disbelief. “Look,” said Lyssa, peeling herself from the wall. “I’ve been on a caravan route the last month, traipsing across the middle of roc infested nowhere with Mel and this nasty little rug salesman from Olenburl, and then I stopped to check on Kairn and Sham in their hole in the wall. You can’t expect me to know what’s going on in your little world too.”
“Mother has taken ill.” Her voice was soft, but the words were as heavy as if she’d shouted them.
“Ill… wait, you’re packing every-” Lyssa stopped, a lump in her throat. “How ill?”
“She collapsed. The medics say her heart…”
Lyssa wondered how she’d missed the dark rings under her sister’s eyes. “Is she…?”
“She will live.” She was trying to force some of the usual business-like tone back into her voice, and Lyssa turned to studying the bags amassed in the parlor to take her eyes off of her. “But she is growing old, Lyssa. She cannot manage everything on her own anymore.”
Lyssa sniffed. As if she was the one that needed convincing. “Finally decided to go back to being the dutiful daughter you always used to.”
“You were right. I cannot sit here forever with my head in the dust. There are demons tearing up the north, and now Mother…My place is at court.”
“So, what can I do?”
Any suggestions Ski might have had were lost to the sudden clamor of small feet on the stairs.
“Mother!” cried Mara, all but tumbling down the last few steps into the parlor, with the calico cat weaving its way down behind her.
“Mara, baby.” Lyssa softened at the sight of her and leaned into the room with her arms opened, waiting for her to race into them.
At the base of the stairs, the girl stiffened, adopting as serious a look as an eight- year-old could muster. “I am not a baby, Mother.” She held her ground for a moment, while excitement battled with dignity, before giving in and bounding across the obstacle course of a parlor.
“Mother,” she said, as Lyssa threw an arm around her. “Mother, Aunt Kari says we are going to go stay at the palace. The palace. Where the princes and princesses live. And I will go to school to be a knight. Does that not sound just splendid?” She uncurled herself from the vise she’d made of her arms around Lyssa’s middle to peer up at her eagerly.
Lyssa gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I’ve been to the palace before, honey.”
“Mara,” Ski called from the kitchen, “have you packed your clothes yet?”
Mara’s expression soured. “Some,” she said. “But if we’re really going to live at the palace, aren’t I to be wearing something nicer?”
“Pack them anyway. The coach will be here soon and we will not be coming back.”
“Very well.” Mara sighed, removing herself the rest of the way from Lyssa to hurry back up the stairs with the cat still at her heels.
There was a loud huff from the kitchen, and the rattle of silver being sorted into boxes resumed. “She thinks she is a princess already,” said Ski. “What am I to do with that child?”
“You want me to come with you? Is Father already there?”
Ski sighed again. “You know Father. He swears he has too many things to wrap up at home before he can leave.”
Lyssa frowned at the stairs. Mara had disappeared into her room, but she could still hear her chattering away at the cat. “Maybe I should go help him then.”
“Anything to avoid setting foot in the palace, is it?”
Lyssa shrugged. “Know where I’m not wanted.”
“Well, then,” said Ski. “Give my best to Father. I expect I will be seeing neither of you for some time.”
“S’pose so. I’ll see you off, though. Anything I can help with here?”
“Go get your daughter to stop playing princess long enough to pack.”